Guilty Love — Andrea can’t help her feelings for her sleeping sister.

Things should have changed after being away from home for the better part of a year, that’s what I thought anyway. My first year at university had been different certainly, but not in the sort of grand life-changing way I had hoped for. Returning home at the end of the school year I found everything pretty much same. I may as well not have bothered.

As sisters, and only about a year and a half apart, I grew up sharing a room with Lindsay. That hadn’t changed either and even now as I lay in my bed staring at the ceiling I could hear her soft breathing from across the room. I turned my head to look at her but couldn’t make out much more than an undefined mound where her blanket covered her. To think one of the biggest problems in my life was sleeping in the same room as me.

It sounded terrible when I thought of it that way. It wasn’t like Lindsay had done anything to deserve being labeled as a problem, even just in my mind. She was as good a sister as I could have asked for and I wouldn’t have traded her for anything. I just wished I could fix whatever was wrong with me.

Sighing heavily, and knowing I was better off staying put, I swung my feet off the side of my bed and stood up. I had taken to sleeping naked while I was away, but in acknowledgement of my return home I settled for stripping down to my underwear. Clad in my bra and panties I crossed the room to stand beside my little sister’s sleeping form.

Only her head was visible sticking out from under the blanket that covered the rest of her body. Now that I was closer I could make out the features on her face, or at least half of her face. In the months I’d been at university she had turned eighteen and, if anything, she looked even more adorable than when I left.

I didn’t know when my bizarre and frustrating obsession had started but it must have been related to us sleeping in the same room. The thing was that as cute as Lindsay could be during the day, the effect was somehow even stronger when she slept. The sheer look of tranquility and contentment that she held was enough to render me helpless.

“Perfect,” I whispered under my breath.

That was the only word I’d come up that came close to describing how she looked to me. Watching her now I saw that same face, the one that had driven me crazy. A little older perhaps but no less perfect than before.

I’d hoped that some distance between us would help, that not seeing her for so many months would make me realize that I didn’t really feel anything more than a love for my little sister. Unfortunately the feelings were stronger now, and many of them were definitely unsisterly.

I reached down to grasp the top of Lindsay’s blanket and tugged it gently away from her shoulder before stopping myself. I’d always managed to keep from actually doing anything more than looking before and that’s how it needed to stay. She didn’t need to know how messed up I was, she didn’t deserve to have to deal with my issues. They were for me alone.

For several long moments I stood there, blanket still in hand. Slowly I pulled it farther down her body until I reached her waist. I was losing the battle, or maybe winning. Always hard to keep score on internal struggles. I was still just looking I told myself, I was just getting the blanket out of the way. It wasn’t really anything I hadn’t seen before.

Soon Lindsay’s blanket was piled up at the base of the mattress and her entire beautiful form lay before me. She was lying mostly on her stomach with her head turned toward me. She had on a t-shirt and pyjama pants as usual, the same I always used to wear to bed too. I noticed that her shirt had pulled up a little as she slept, exposing maybe an inch or two of skin on her back.

It was weird how interesting skin could be at times. It was constantly visible on other people on their hands or arms or faces, yet sometimes it was different. In the right places or on the right people it turned from an everyday sight to something more fascinating than the greatest work of art. The small patch on my sister’s back wasn’t quite that amazing, but it was still enough to draw my attention.

My hand went to the gap between her shirt and pants without even bothering to ask permission from my brain. I let my palm lay flat on her back for a moment before jerking it away. Now I was going too far, crossing a line I had always managed to avoid in the past. And yet, it felt so good.

Feeling guilty even before I touched her again I returned my hand to Lindsay’s back, pushing the hem of her shirt up a little as I spread my fingers out. I slowly ran my hand up her spine to about the mid-point between her waist and neck before sliding it back to its starting position. Having pulled her shirt up some I wondered just how far I could get away with. It couldn’t come off, not without actually moving her, and I didn’t think she’d sleep through that.

Taking hold of the bottom of my sister’s shirt on either side of her body I carefully tugged it upward. It was caught between her stomach and the mattress where she lay on it but I still managed to get it up to almost the level of her breasts.

I paused as I considered the possibilities, then slipped my fingers under the bunched up edge of Lindsay’s shirt. Only the side of her breast was available to me without rolling her over and it really wasn’t enough to get much of a feel, but it was more the idea of what I was doing anyway. It was so wrong in so many ways and so very, very exhilarating.

My heart was pounding and my hesitation was disappearing as my hormones took over. I’d still feel bad in the morning and I’d wish I hadn’t done any of this, but I couldn’t stop.

I turned my attention downward to the yet untouched pyjama pants that covered my little sister’s lower half. They were loose, meant for comfort, and I decided I could probably get away with a similar process as I’d done to her shirt. Her legs were lying apart slightly, spreading wide enough that I wouldn’t be able to get her waistband past her knees without pushing them together. That was okay though, I could still get it down far enough for my purposes. [read more](https://realsexstoriesx.blogspot.com/2021/02/guilty-love-andrea-cant-help-her.html)

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